The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 75

He allowed the pleasure to seep into him. This was why he loved sex so much - the tight clenching of muscles around his dick, the feel of hot limbs entwined around his body, someone else's need spreading by osmosis to his flesh.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yes," she whimpered.

He began to move, thrusting himself in and out of her with slow, measured strokes, using the wall as leverage.

"It hurts," she said.

"It'll get better. It's just your first time, that's all."

He felt her wet tears upon his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said.

He had nothing to say to that. So he kept on pistoning in and out of her like a well-oiled tool. He didn't think she would have an orgasm from sheer fucking - not the first time, in his experience. Besides, he had already given her plenty of orgasms when he got down on her. Her first orgasms ever given to her by a man.

In, out, in, out - it was a rhythm he was so practiced in. It didn't matter who the recipient was. One pussy was the same as another. He didn't believe in feelings and emotions and all that crock of shit that came with relationships, so it was the sensations that he concentrated upon. The goal of slow orgasm. Making himself ride out each one longer, like an engine breaking itself in and learning precision as it went along.

He reached his climax with a single gasp. Convulsions rattled his entire body. He felt her slowly sinking onto the floor, and he let her feet tread the tiles before he released her. She clung on to his neck, panting and all sweaty.

"Thank you," she said again.

"It will be better next time."

"No, it was wonderful," she avowed.

He glanced at her face to see if she was kidding, and she was not. She was gazing at him with an expression in her glistening eyes. An expression he had come to recognize and dread.

Oh no. Not again.

But he had promised Warwick, and besides, he was never one to renege on a bet.

So, instead of instantly cutting off the cord with a sharpened scissors, he swallowed the sudden lump that came to his throat and growled, "Wait till next time."

"When can I see you again?" she said breathlessly at the door.

He was tempted to tell her, "Never again", but he had promised Warwick that he would carry this on until April Fools' Day.

"Tonight, after class." He ran his fingertip suggestively down the area between her clavicles.

Her besotted expression disturbed him.

That night, they studied together in the library. And then he took her to his rented apartment outside campus - in which he lived alone - and fucked her again. No ... maybe it should be called 'making love'. He was tender and giving and loving - to let her have a contrast to last night's brutal fucking.

He found himself enjoying her company, despite his misgivings. At the same time, Warwick managed to get Goldie to go on a date.

"One more night," Brian thundered. "If blondie doesn't put out, you're on your own."

"One more night," Warwick promised.

That night, knowing it would be his last with Adie, Brian gave her a night she would never forget. Not only did he do everything a man could do with a woman with her - everything she was comfortable with, of course - but they lay together in bed afterward, cuddling. Almost like a real couple.